“But to sneak in after hours? To see Colt every day until he left the hospital and not say one word to him when he moves across town to rehab? Suspect at best. And let’s not forget he burned his own house down.”
“That’s not confirmed, is it?”
Gage dropped his head and rubbed his face. Voice muffled, he asked, “Did you light a match? I didn’t. Maverick has already been all over this. Yes, the house was rigged to burn. Someone—presumably Tom—used accelerant to set a fire you can’t put out with water. He wanted his secrets to go down with that house, Riley, and the reason has something to do with Colt.”
Riley’s defenses rankled. Gage’s words made sense, but she didn’t like feeling Colt could be somehow guilty by association. She couldn’t believe he’d betray their father’s trust by sharing that combination, no matter how much despair Colt suffered. “Maybe this has absolutely nothing to do with Colt. Don’t forget where we came from on this. Someone ended up with a gun to which only Colt and I had access. I am almost certain my father didn’t share the combination and I know I didn’t, which brings us back to Colt.” She frowned. “Although, honestly, I can’t believe he’d tell anyone. I know he was angry with you, but he’s a good guy. By now he must understand you didn’t do this on purpose. Just…just don’t get so bent on Tom’s association with my brother that you overlook other possibilities.”
Gage snorted. “You’re starting to sound like Maverick. As far as I know, we don’t have any other leads on this. If you’ve got any ideas, I’m listening…but either way we need to go sort this mess out with Colt.”
“Yeah, there’s that.” And she absolutely dreaded it. The ache in her heart over her falling out with Colt was an old and profound one. Seeing him again would rip open that wound, and she wasn’t ready to start over. Not unless they reconciled, but walking through the door with Gage—the reason Colt kicked her out of his life to begin with—didn’t leave much room for hope in that regard. She sank lower in the seat, the weight of her sorrow pressing hard on her heart.
“Hey, I really am sorry about what happened between you guys.” Gage’s voice was soft, the change in tone catching her off guard.
“Him throwing me out of his life? His choice.” Bitterness crept into her voice, but the anxiety of seeing him—of actually laying eyes on her brother, once her best friend—bubbled close to the surface, hot and hard.
“But it was because of me.”
“No need to be sorry, Gage. I did the right thing. The almighty they accused you of something you didn’t do.”
He swore a soft oath she barely heard over the wind through the open windows. Litany aside, he steered into the parking lot of the rehab facility and took a spot in the back, under a large tree. The shade didn’t keep the heat from shimmering in waves off the asphalt, but it was a nice thought.
“What?” she asked.
“I need to tell you something.”
Great. Nothing good ever came from those words. Not when tired eyes and a look of apology accompanied them. That look.
He continued. “About the drinking—”
Instinct drove her to cut him off. “You quit. I know that.” The sureness in her voice surprised her. It didn’t betray the unease casing her spine or the hollowness in her gut. Her fingers tingled with the childish urge to cover her ears, to ignore whatever it was drinking had to do with her brother or the accident. Gage’s drinking was ancient history.
Wasn’t it?
“Riley, I tried.”
Heat flashed red hot to her face. “You tried?”
“I tried.”
No, no, no, no. What was he saying? Denial blasted through his words, shielding her from his meaning, building a wall she had no desire to scale. But twelve months of pain demanded clarity. “As in, you tried but did not?”
He looked to the filthy headliner of the truck and pinched the bridge of his nose. Then he pushed back his hair and blew out a breath. Stalling. “I promised you I’d quit,” he said after a long moment.
“Yes…yes, you did.” She impressed herself with her ability to keep the words level. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. And it hit her—he had alluded to this before. With clammy realization, she remembered the death grip he had on the steering wheel when this came up earlier. Whatever this was.
“Your dad knew.”
The truth had yet to hit her. “Knew what?”
He finally looked at her. “I didn’t quit. I tried, Riley. I just…didn’t.”
The words didn’t register. Or perhaps they did on some level, but she didn’t hear them. She wouldn’t hear them. “You didn’t…”
“I was still drinking, but—”
The space between them—or lack thereof—was suddenly too much. Not enough. She didn’t know. It didn’t matter. She just threw open the truck door, escaping, and slammed it, but the force and the noise didn’t change anything.
I was still drinking.
She escaped nothing and was left with even less.
Hugging herself, she looked around. The rehab center sat in a tranquil oasis of green manicured lawn, the red brick and shiny glass facility the best money could buy. Her parents’ life insurance gave them that gift. It was supposed to give Colt a chance, but he had given up.
Hands landed on her shoulders. That was when she realized she was shaking, that tears rolled down her cheeks. She looked into Gage’s troubled face, and her heart broke over and over again, like glass rolling downhill, every turn another shattering of what used to be. “You did this. I stood up for you. I said you weren’t drinking when everyone else in that town stood over those mangled cars and swore you were the local drunk. I believed in you. I lost everything for you.”
He pulled on her shoulders, held them firmly until she allowed herself to focus on his face. “I was not drinking that day, Riley. Not the day of the accident. I didn’t drink because I was with you. I never wanted you to know.”
“Really? When were you drinking? Because we were always together. You promised me you quit. How many days—how many weeks—we were living your lie?”
He stared her down. “I never drove. Never. It wasn’t very often. Just sometimes…sometimes I couldn’t turn away from it. Oren…your dad, once he found out, he said he’d help me through it. He was my support.”
“Your support? What does my dad…” She shook off levels of pain she hadn’t flirted with in months. “What did my dad know about being a drunk? Or a liar? He knew?” She was babbling, but she didn’t care. The words tumbled, angry and hurt. “He knew you lied to me and he… Why would my own father help you lie to me?”
His face creased, his eyes cloudy with questions. “You didn’t know? Years ago, he struggled with his own addiction. He told me his story. He knew what I was going through, and he offered to help. I never had a father. He was there for me, and neither of us wanted to hurt you. We both believed I’d get through it. If you haven’t been there, Riley…if you haven’t fought these demons, you don’t know what it’s like. He wanted to do this for me. For you.”
Riley leaned over the bed of the truck and dropped her face in her hands. The metal burned her arms, but she didn’t care. Her father had been an alcoholic? And he knew Gage still drank? Betrayal burrowed in the pit of her stomach. They’d both lied to her. They’d both—
“I’d been clean for a couple of weeks when it happened. I swear to you, I wasn’t drinking. And even before, I never drove. Never. And trust me, your daddy would’ve put that gun to my chest himself if he thought for a second I had.”
She didn’t want to hear it. She couldn’t hear it. She refused to let it be true…she couldn’t stop it. Pain dawned. It ebbed and flowed and coiled through her, and all that was left was hurt. “I believed in you, but it was a lie. It was all a lie. Everyone in town thinks you killed them, Gage. Everyone.”
“Everyone but you?”
“Anything.”
“After the accident…when I left. I asked you—”
“You asked me not to drink. You asked me not to give in. Not to turn to the alcohol because…you were leaving me.”
“Have you?”
He looked at her, his face as solemn as she’d ever seen it. “Not a drop. I swear.”
“And you’re good for your word?”
“Yes.” The response hung between them, going nowhere.
She stopped her travels at the driver’s side door of the truck and grabbed the handle. “You also promised never to contact me again. Yet there you were in my living room, pointing a gun at my head. Fucking liar.”
He opened his mouth, but she waved away the words. Nothing he could have said would change anything. No defense existed for what he’d done. He’d stolen her faith with his lies, and in a way he’d taken her daddy too. The memories she clung to were now tainted with the secret her father kept, with the betrayal of siding with Gage, of allowing her to trust him while he made a fool of her. The whole town of Barefoot had probably laughed behind her back. Some might have even said she got what she deserved, and maybe they were right. But the lie was over, and at least now she knew she’d gotten one thing right. Steeling herself against his betrayal, she met Gage’s eyes. “I can’t do this.”
“You can’t do what?”
“This. Just…call Maverick. Order up another truck or whatever you do. Just…goodbye, Gage.”
She paused, waiting for him to say something. But there was only silence buoyed by a cloud of anger and hurt. Tense seconds crawled past before he opened his mouth and then closed it. Then, without speaking, he held up his palms and stepped away from the truck.
Gage didn’t even try to stop her from going.
Flying blind through a mask of tears, she got in Maverick’s truck and left.
Chapter Ten
Gage stood in the parking lot, helpless to do anything but watch her leave. Adding insult to injury—he figured Maverick could aid in the injury aspect—she’d taken his gun and the note she’d written him. He hadn’t thought to remove either from the truck when he’d jumped out to smooth things over. Clearly, he’d also neglected to take the keys. At least he had his cell phone, and he’d need it to ask Maverick for another ride.
That was not a conversation wrought with favored anticipation.
He turned the cell phone over in his hand a few times, trying to come up with an excuse to put off the inevitable. In the process, he saw he had a missed call.
Maverick.
Gage dialed his voice mail as he walked across the parking lot.
“Fun factoid,” Maverick said on the recording. “On the way to rehab, Colt’s transport vehicle had a little accident. Well, not so little…it T-boned another car. The transport driver had to be hauled off in an ambulance. They had to send in a second one to get Colt to the new facility.”
Perfect. Gage ended the call, determined there was no future for him in investigation. Two solid days of trying to figure out why his brother was dead and Riley a target, and all Gage had was a pile of random facts and a long walk home.
And memories of loving Riley that would have to sustain him for a long time to come, because she didn’t look in the mood for forgiveness.
But first things first. She was still wanted by the law, and after dragging her into this mess, he at least wanted to set her free from it. Whatever that meant.
Whatever it took.
Gage was still sulking when he entered the rehab facility. Too distracted to remember how much he hated that lurking hospital smell, he sucked in a breath of sterile air and almost choked on it, much to the delight of the blonde at the front desk.
“Can I get you some water, sir?” she asked, rushing to his side.
He sidestepped her not-so-professional one-armed embrace and shook his head through a fit of coughs. “I’d like to visit a patient,” he said, blinking through watery eyes. He caught sight of her nametag, conveniently located over a bulging D cup-runneth-over. “Nina.”
“We refer to our guests as residents,” she said, flashing a canned hostess grin. But she remained close, her body in rude defiance of his personal space.
He quickened his steps to the front desk, hoping he’d be able to shed her there.
At the edge of expansive granite counter, she paused and trailed her fingertips down his shoulder—raking the gunshot wound through the fabric of his shirt, leaving him to bite the inside of his cheek with irritation. Finally, she stepped around the desk, positioned herself behind her computer, and looked up at him through her eyelashes. “What’s the name of the resident you’re here to see, honey?”
Having to deal with her flirting on the heels of Riley’s departure sickened him, but he’d suffer through it. As long as Nina gave him Colt’s room number, she could think what she wanted. “Resident, then. Colt Beckett.”
“Oh.” She dropped her hands to her lap, keyboard untouched. “I’m afraid I can’t give you Mr. Beckett’s room number. He’s requested not to have visitors.”
“What?”
Nina folded her arms on the desktop in classic case closed body language. “Mr. Beckett has an order on file that he not receive visitors.”
Fuck. He’d assumed the ban was on Riley alone. “There must be some kind of mistake.”
“No, sir, no mistake.” The standoffish-folded-arm gesture moved from the desktop to her chest.
So much for staying off the radar. Sighing inwardly, Gage reached into his pocket and pulled a fake badge from its recesses. “Detective Robert Fallon,” he said in a stage whisper. He slid the badge out of sight before she could get a good look, and then leaned close. “I’m undercover. I need to see Colt. And let’s keep this between us so we don’t upset the residents, shall we?”
Nina—although doe-eyed—didn’t look convinced. “Our policy doesn’t allow—”
“I can call in a uniform, but I think this would be better”—he lowered his voice to an intimate, conspiratorial volume—“between you and me.”
She worried her bottom lip, glancing from him to the computer to the long hallway extending from the lobby behind him.
Was she wavering? At the very least, she didn’t make a move to call security.
“Well…” She hesitated.
“And maybe I can thank you over dinner?” he said, winking, disgusted with himself for resorting to flirtation. Whether or not Riley had written him off a second time, he didn’t know. Regardless, his heart belonged to her and he felt like an ass for acting otherwise. But if pretending to return Nina’s advances would help him figure out what the hell was going on back in Barefoot, he’d learn to live with himself.
Predictably, Nina lit up. “Okay, Detective Fallon. Right this way.” She rounded the desk and led the way to the right wing.
Gage followed, not paying as much attention to her sashaying rear end as Nina might have hoped. The room in question was at the end of the hall behind a door with a permanent Do Not Disturb sign on it. Engraved on a plaque.
Was Colt really that pissed off with the world?
“I’ll wait outside the door for you,” Nina said in a low voice. “So you’re not disturbed.”
Great. All he needed was a babysitter, especially when he’d likely have some convincing to do. Even if Colt hadn’t blackballed visitors, Gage would be the last guy Colt would want to see, and Gage didn’t need a witness to the shit hitting the fan. “Maybe you should wait at the front desk,” he said. “I don’t want you to lose your job over me or anything.”
She frowned and glanced toward the lobby.
He tried to conjure a smile and added, “I have to walk righ
t past you on my way out anyway, right?”
“Okay, you’re right. Have a nice visit, Detective Fallon. Please keep your credentials available for other staff members, should anyone question you.” With a nod, she turned and swayed her way to the lobby, glancing over her shoulder as she went.
She smiled when she saw that he watched her go.
He swallowed a groan, but waited until she disappeared from view. Then he pushed open the door and slipped into the room.
It was dark and cool and, if not for the shape of Colt lying under the blankets, Gage would figure it for vacant. No personal effects littered the bedside table. The television was off, and the only noise was the hum of an air conditioner.
A pang of regret hit Gage like a punch to the gut. Accident or not, he caused this.
Colt showed no signs of knowing anyone was in the room. He lay motionless, his head turned in the direction of the heavily curtained window. The steady rise and fall of the blankets was the only indication of life.
Gage braced himself for the fallout. “Colt, it’s Gage. I need to talk to you about Riley. She’s in trouble.”
Colt didn’t move.
Gage ventured closer. Colt’s ruddy blond hair was tousled but trimmed, his face neatly shaven. What little bit of light escaped the window coverings lay across his familiar profile.
Standing there, in Colt’s reality, Gage felt sick.
“I need to ask you some questions,” he said. “About your dad’s gun. Did you tell anyone else about the safe? Did you give anyone the combination?”
Colt might have shifted his head, or maybe it was a shadow. Gage couldn’t be sure. He eased forward until he stood by the bed. “Colt? Come on, man. This is important.”
Nothing.
Gage reached for Colt’s shoulder, unsure if he would even feel the contact. When Gage’s fingers brushed Colt’s sleeve, Gage froze.
Forsaken Page 10
